


Do Not Stand At My Grave And Cry

by onionstories



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill Cipher Redemption, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onionstories/pseuds/onionstories
Summary: I am not there, I did not die.Bill Cipher wonders if he made the right choice. Followup to Phoenix.





	Do Not Stand At My Grave And Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary says, this is a followup to my other story, _[Phoenix.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9849767)_ However, it's not required to read that one to understand this one.

 

A former triangle awakens in the woods.

 

He sits up immediately, flexing his new hands once, twice- he was already accustomed to having a human body. He wasn’t the slightest bit confused at his new surroundings- he remembered the conversation he had clearly. 

 

Atonement, reincarnation, redemption. He’d agreed, and he waited, and it was finally time. 

 

And Bill Cipher got up. 

 

His new form looked alright enough, he mused to himself. It even had two eyes, something Bill still wasn’t used to- he kept blinking each eye individually. But, he thought as he wandered the forest, he’d get used to it. 

 

It was a sunny day; at least what Bill had said who-knows-how-long ago rang true. Or did it? He hasn't  _ met _ anyone yet, so he might have the unfortunate luck to be caught in a rainstorm when the time came. He felt his stomach churn just thinking about any sort of meeting. He knew it had to come eventually, after all, that was what he was here to do. 

 

But could he? 

 

Truthfully, there was not one time in Bill Cipher's life where he felt like he could do  _ anything. _ He tried, tried so hard, to make himself believe that there was. But if one were to ask him for the truth, he would be forced to admit that, no, he has never been sure of himself. Seeing infinite timelines- infinite chances for success, and infinite chances for failure, some simply there just to be there, did that to him. 

 

If one continued to force the truth out of him, he would have to say that even without his all-encompassing sight, that doubt would still remain.

And remain it did. 

 

He stopped.

 

It wasn't like he was going anywhere in particular; he didn't even know where he was. He leaned against a tree and let a sigh escape him. Bill stared at his hands- then stared at the ground, watching the grass sway in the light breeze. Anything to avoid looking at his new body. A human body wasn't all that bad, all things considered. He wasn't worried about mortality- he had a few tricks left, after all. The Axolotl was kind enough to leave his regenerative powers be, He knew how much Bill would need those in his lifetime. It would buy him time, and death never scared him. He'd died twice, once in a blazing inferno, and the other millennia before, when he was the tender age of nine. The Axolotl had simply put him back then, with an infuriating line on how  _ it wasn't his time. _

 

Bill scoffed at the memory and kicked a small rock. He'd done the right thing, and that frilly bastard had thrown a wrench in his plans. Bill's dimension had died, Weirdmageddon initiated, and who's fault was it? Well- it was his own, Bill had to admit,  _ but it was that frilly know-it-all's fault for not letting him fix it before anything could happen! _

 

He shook his head, clearing it. No use dwelling on the past, and the circumstances of his first death was definitely a part of his past which he didn't want to remember.

 

Bill started to walk again.

 

He'd gotten what he wanted. His end goal, the goal he'd dreamed of since he was a child, was to get to the third dimension. No apocalypse, no destruction of his own dimension, no killing everyone he ever knew and cared about, and no forcing himself to do it again. 

 

He just wanted to be here, and here he was. 

 

But Bill Cipher felt empty. The kind of emptiness that eats up your entire being, makes you feel less than nothing. He didn't understand. Why did he feel this way? He was  _ here, _ wasn't he? He got a second chance, didn't he? He had hope- there were at least a few timelines out there where he made things better. Where he earned forgiveness.

 

The emptiness persisted. Bill kept walking, as if a change of scenery would help. Not like it'd change, one patch of forest doesn't look much different from another patch of forest. Bill bit back any emotion that threatened to show. He didn't even let his face fall. Hiding emotion was the one way he could protect himself- emotions were the greatest vulnerability of a person, after all- and he must be expected to keep it up no matter what, even if nobody was around. 

 

He mentally kicked himself for thinking things would be different.

 

There was no way his ideal scenario would come true. It wasn't like he would suddenly feel all the emotions he was deprived of all his life, gain  _ actual,  _ non-faked confidence, waltz up to those he'd hurt, and say the perfect things to convey how sorry he was. 

 

The emptiness was with him all his life. It wouldn't  _ go away.  _ Not quickly, and not slowly.

 

Not ever. 

 

Bill Cipher wondered if there was a point to what he was doing. Where was he going? Was he just going to die somewhere in the forest, without making anything of his second chance? He couldn't. He owed it to everyone he'd hurt to at least pretend to try. Pretend, like he always did.

 

He made a promise to himself. He'd keep walking until one of two things happened. He would either reach Nowhere, collapse of exhaustion, and ultimately die of starvation. Or. He would reach Somewhere, and stay there, no matter what. 

 

He walked faster, starting to turn left, then right, then left again. He was bound to reach Somewhere soon. Maybe he'd find town. Maybe he'd end up at the Mystery Shack.  _ He hoped not, though. _

 

Bill wondered if Frilly was watching him. Watching him fumble about in the forest, without a clue as to what he was doing. He wondered, did Frilly regret giving him a second chance? He most likely did. But, Frilly didn't regret Bill's first undeath, and that was objectively the worst thing He could have done for the multiverse. His hands clenched into fists. If only Frilly didn't arbitrarily decide that it wasn't Bill's time to die, he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. 

 

Bill punched a tree, and kicked any roots or large rocks he saw. It wasn't fair.  _ It wasn't fair!  _ He could've avoided all of this! His entire life, all the torment he inflicted on others. It could have been stopped, and easily, too. 

 

But it wasn't.

 

He was still here. In an ideal world, he could've said,  _ but everything was here, too. _

 

Everything was not here. There were things that were completely and utterly lost to the flames. Not even taken by natural decay- ripped away from the one life they could've had, by the one person who wanted to outlive everyone the least of all. 

 

How ironic. 

 

But what if? He thought.  _ What if it was different? If everything was still there? If I hadn't DONE ANYTHING? _

 

Would it have changed anything?

 

Bill cipher doubted it. 

 

Perhaps, in an ideal timeline, it had, just a little. In an even more ideal timeline, it had changed everything. He wouldn't be wandering around a forest he once decimated, in a husk of a body, with that empty, dead feeling. The feeling he'd been trying to push down for his entire existence, only for it to be shoved back into the forefront, with nothing to distract himself. Nothing to delude himself into thinking was right, just to make himself pretend that the emptiness didn't exist.

 

What was the point? What was the  _ point? _ If he was just going to feel empty his entire life, why bother trying? Why was he even here? Maybe his best option was to stop. Not to bother with this path which he knew would end in failure. Accept his fate, return to the Axolotl, and let Him do whatever he pleased. 

 

Once, he begged to be here. He longed for this chance, even when he pretended not to care. 

 

He made a promise.

 

But he felt so empty... it seemed like it was getting harder to walk. He wasn't familiar with needing sleep, not for a trillion years, but all he wanted to do was lay down, and rest. Close his eyes and never wake up. 

 

But what he said before rang true. He made a promise. He always did practice self-mutilation; he could handle dragging his body around. He could handle fighting it for at least that little bit longer. 

 

There was a clearing. 

 

Bill let himself heave a sigh of relief- and a sigh of exhaustion. He'd reached Nowhere. He could finally stop. It was a fruitless goal, anyway.  _ Redemption, _ for someone like  _ him? _ It didn't matter how much he wanted it. Did he even deserve it? The answer was  _ no. _ He never did, and never will, deserve to be absolved. 

 

Bill was ready to stop, to just let it end. But- there was something in the clearing. His eyes were glued to it- and he couldn't look away. 

 

A stone statue, half-overtaken by vegetation. 

 

It was  _ him. _ Not a statue built of his likeness, but  _ himself. _

 

Bill stepped closer.

 

This was all that was left of his old life. All the destruction, all the suffering he'd caused. It was all reduced to a cracked, dirty statue. His entire being, his life, death, personality...

 

The memories of his home- the one way they still existed, was with him. Despite him being the one to destroy it, he was also keeping it alive, in a way. 

 

All that, reduced to a stone statue. 

 

An unthinking, unfeeling, unaware statue.

 

Bill felt a wave of _ regret. _

 

He didn't want it all to end, not just yet. He pictured himself, his new body, overtaken by nature. Everything about him fading away. He wondered how long it'd take for the multiverse to forget the name  _ Bill Cipher. _

 

Before they forgot, they'd remember. They'd remember Bill Cipher, feared dimensional conqueror, remorseless destroyer of his own home, of his family and friends. They'd remember Bill Cipher, the being who cared about nobody except himself. Bill Cipher, who was completely and utterly  _ evil, _ with no shred of morality. 

 

Bill Cipher- the  _ real _ Bill Cipher, the true being, the one who stood in front of his corpse- hadn't realized that he started to cry. 

 

He still didn't notice as he thought about how close he was to letting everything he- the  _ real him _ \- worked for die out. 

 

He always wanted a better world. He ended up creating a dead world. And he ended up convincing himself that it was correct- that he was correct in doing so. 

 

Bill knew, he owed it to a dimension's worth of people to try. Not pretend to try, no more pretending. Not like how it was.

 

Actually, earnestly  _ try. _

 

For everyone he's ever hurt.

 

For the long-forgotten, old dimension. The dimension only kept alive by his memories. 

 

For his dead family.

 

For  _ this dimension, _ the dimension he always wanted to see. The one he always wanted the people he cared about to see, as well. 

 

For himself, past and present. 

 

He shakily brought a hand to his face and wiped the tears off. He stared at his hand for a long, long time. It'd been trillions of years since he had to wipe tears away. Had it been that long? He'd been faking for most of his life...

 

Bill hated showing any sort of weakness, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off him, after so long of hiding. 

 

He reached out, and touched the statue.

 

And he felt nothing.

 

Of course, it was cool to the touch, and he could feel the cracks and rough texture of the stone, but it did not impact his physical form in any way.

 

He was no longer bound to his old body- to his old life. 

 

And, for a second, the emptiness was filled with the elusive emotion called happiness.

 

Now he knew where he was- he remembered where he'd died, and where it was positioned. He looked to the right- the Shack should be in that direction. 

 

Bill Cipher was never good at making choices. He  seemed to always, always pick the wrong ones. He committed atrocity after atrocity, all because of his own choices. He still was not confident that this was the correct path to take. He wasn't sure if he ever would be, even if it was all said and done, and he succeeded. But, this time was different than all the other times he ever made his choices. 

 

Before, he was completely and utterly empty. Making bad choice after bad choice with reckless abandon in the hopes that it would lead to happiness. To contentment. For it all to have been worth it, for him to never have been wrong, ever. 

 

But he was. It made him feel heavy with regret, admitting it, but he was completely  _ wrong. _ He was wrong to destroy everything, and he was wrong to continue. It hurt countless innocents and led to nothing but disappointment. 

 

But now. Now he felt a little less empty. He wondered he if could ever become content with simply forgiveness. He wondered if he could ever live, not being in control. He doubted it- but there was a part of him that did not doubt. That part, albeit small, was the first genuine positive emotion he'd experienced for as long as he can remember. 

 

He was here for a reason. He was given a second chance for a  _ reason. _ And who was he to stomp on that reason? Who would lay down and die when presented with a second chance, a chance to make up for all the mistakes you've ever made? 

 

It would be hard. Nothing about Bill's long life was easy, no matter how much he pretended that it was the case. But Bill was used to hardship, and he was used to waiting. He wanted this, more than anything he ever wanted before. He was here, finally  _ here, _ in the place he wanted to be in since he was a child. Best to make the most out of it. 

 

He looked at the statue one last time, taking in the finer details. The color, the damage, how the foliage seemed to overtake it. 

 

He turned away, facing the vast forest. His destination would be this way. He had a long road ahead of him, there was no room for looking back. 

 

And Bill Cipher started to walk.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and comments if you enjoyed! It motivates me to write more!


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